Reunion
by PumpkinHarvest
Summary: Her brother's door had been painted over. She traced her fingers over it often, outlining the faint handwriting still hidden there. Dipper was a ghost. But to be a ghost, you had to have existed. As her parents had it, Mabel might as well be a single child. A lonely singular sibling, sleeping alone in her too big bed and crying quiet tears. And now it was time to run. Cest of Pine.
1. Dream

Howdy, you nasty thing you, please know that your follows and reviews give me life. Like actual breathing, pulsing life, so dump nice words on my garbage head and I'll spit out more self indulgent fickery do. Thank you for giving my stories your time. I couldn't do any of this terrible, terrible smutty fluffy mess without you.

Doublepines, if you're reading this I love you, and you're a constant source of inspiration. Thank you for existing and please continue doing god's work.

* * *

"Dipper!" Mabel's voice was a shrieking whisper from outside his door. Dipper closed his journal and ran to unlock it, alarmed at her tone. He swung it open.

"Mabel? What's wrong?" Her eyes were wide with panic. It seemed a sweat had broke on her forhead not moments before. She looked side to side down the narrow hallway and shoved Dipper in the room, closing the door behind her. From across the house Dipper could faintly hear...his father? Yelling about something? His mother's sobs drifted close behind.

"Dipper! Mom got my phone while I was changing! She saw our messages! She knows! Mom knows!" Mabel cried, hands reaching for her brother. She clutched his arms and gave him a shake. His tongue was ash in his mouth. The gravity of the situation sent him reeling back, hands bracing for an anchor. He stumbled against his shelf. Oh dear god. Oh no. Oh fuck fuck fuck no.

Dipper fought the dizzying blur of emotions, squinting to remember what the last message to her had been.

_**our shower was fun**_

God in heaven.

His father's stomps echoed down the hall, shaking the pictures along the walls. What the fuck was he going to do? Dipper's mouth was bone dry, ears ringing and legs shaking. He looked to Mabel and saw she was weeping, head in her hands. Oh God , please help them. Please. He trembled violently as he reached to hold her.

The bedroom door slammed open, knob cracking a hole in the wall. Mabel shrieked in fear. His father stood in the doorway, snarling like a mad animal, breathing in and out of his drum chest.

"_You. " _His father growled, pointing at Dipper. A crazed gleam in his eyes. One Dipper had never seen. He tried choking out a response but found no words. He had nothing to say. He kept his eyes on Mabel. His father charged at him, meaty fists clamping his shoulders. The man was shaking him back and forth, roaring in his face. Spittle flew as his father barked insults. Mabel broke into a wail.

"Dad! Dad, stop!" Mabel shrieked, her fists hammering into their father's arms. Dipper watched like a ghost in the corner as his mother roughly dragged his sister from the situation and into her room. He could hear her screaming.

Dipper felt like a hand on a clock. Tic toc tic toc. It was as if a plug had been pulled and all his emotions were draining out and were pooling around his feet. He's was stepping in them and smearing them across the floor like vivid paints.

"What in God's name were you thinking? Doing that to your own goddamn _sister._" His father spat words in his face. Never had he felt so useless. Like a drop in the river he wanted to flow away and join the ocean. Be anywhere else but here. Mabel was shrieking across the hall.

"_No Mama no no no! Please don't do that! Please! P-hle-ea-ease!"_

Dipper's head lolled side to side as his father paced the room. The situation became static on the radio waves. A crumbly white noise that went on and on. He couldn't listen. Couldn't hear.

"Pack up your things. We're taking you to your great uncle's." His dad growled, slamming his door so hard it knocked frames off the wall.

_ So what? _They got to have more alone time at Grunkle Stan's anyways. They could kiss and share secrets till early in the morning. They could ride bikes to their tree fort of solitude in the woods. But Dipper got the sinking feeling that he'd be making the trip to Gravity Falls...alone.

A bang focused Dipper once more. His mother's voice shook as she spoke in a hush to Mabel across the hall. "You two can say goodbye in the morning. And then I never want to hear about..._this_ again." Her mien warbled into a condescending squawk as she slammed Mabel's door.

Mabel was crying softly from her room. Dipper could see her now, face deep in her pillows as she sobbed. He wanted to pull her against him and breathe in tune with her. Tell her everything was going to be okay.

Just like that, wasn't it? Dipper had closed his math textbook not moments before his sister rushed in. He had been planning on telling her about an art project he was working on and needed her help with. And now? Dipper fell back on his bed, tears with no effort fell from his eyes. He could hear his sister's soft whimpers as she tried to hold in her sobs.

It was all over. Yesterday he had kissed her after her morning shower, and tomorrow he'd be on the other side of Oregon. Alone. An unfamiliar dread bubbled in his stomach, making bile rise in his throat, his fingers ached with grief. He curled into a knot, eyes wide and fixed on his walls. Littered with sticky notes and pictures, puffy stickers and food stains.

"_Three more days, Dipper."_ The wind carried a voice to his ear and he shuddered, hugging his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, counting back from ten. _10..._don't cry. _9_...oh god don't cry. _8..._

_ "He'll take care of our berries."_

Dipper's palms flew to cover his ears. He grit his teeth against the noise.

_7..._

_ "You don't think we're too close. Right...?"_

_ 6..._

_ "How long can they keep us apart?"_

God make it stop! He pressed his hands tighter. "Stop it! Stop!"

_5...4...3..._

_ "X marks the spot?" _

_ "What about this one, bro bro? Cute uh?"_

_ "There'll be other days, Dip."_

_ "_Stooppp! Godammit!" Dipper roared in agony. His heart seized in his chest, feeling like hot wire in a tangle. He couldn't breath. He couldn't get any air! Oh god oh fuck. His lungs constricted and he cried out a dry wheeze.

_2..._

_ 1..._

_ "Mabel?"_

_ "Dipper?"_


	2. Wake

Of course he cried at night. A low sob that almost wouldn't win. It would be a good day, chores and homework all done. He'd lay back in his bed, minutes would pass. Dipper could hear the analog clock buzzing low like a gnat in his ear, green numbers stark on the ceiling above him.

**01:11 **He hated this clock. Dipper couldn't open his damn eyes without being reminded of the time. _It's 01:11 and you're still alone. _

The night could be cool and would make you feel still, stars would have a lazy glow to them this time of year. He'd get lost in the thoughts of his day. _Did I put that washer load in the dryer already? I'm almost out of floss. New shoes would be nice. When was the last time I actually washed these pillowcases? Geesh. _

And then all of a sudden, it would strike. In the time it takes you to fall asleep, when you're laying there in the dark and maybe the fan is humming softly or the pines are creaking outside, you have time to look back. A few memories would just spill over the dam. It wouldn't matter if it was the best or worst day. Each memory would stack. He'd try to block it out, but that only made it worse. _Remember how nervous she was to smile the first day she got braces? _

Dipper groaned, tossing to face his blank wall. _Don't get heartsick...don't get heartsick..._ He placed his hand over his forhead as it ached.

Every night was the same. Like a cold spoon on your throat and a hot wire in your eyes. There was an unwelcome chill in the attic without her. An emptiness that he could feel. A bitterness he could scent. The room was so barren. And so was he. And Oh god oh god _so was he._

He'd curl up, his belly aching with grief. That kind of bone deep misery that makes your fingers throb and your heart go to thudding all sluggish. Like if you sat there long enough, and sad enough...it would all stop. A feeling akin to when the tide rolls in and all you can do is go with the waves. Push and pull. Seafoam blinding your eyes as the briny deep sucked you in. The eddies whirling above you as you sink and at the last moment, you reached toward the surface. Not to fight the waves but to say goodbye.

This heart ache brought on a chill that always brought him back to one of his fondest memories of his father. They had been ice fishing, and Dipper had stepped atop a weak spot. It shattered without time for even a water under the surface had cut through him like a blade. And he remember drifting down in the darkness, only the yawning gape in the ice sheet for light.

He hadn't even fought, no struggle as the frigid waters had just taken him. Soon enough, it felt like a warm blanket had been wound around and around him, from cooling to burning to soothing. He'd closed his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep without a sound. He'd never forget his final thought was ' _Goodnight, Mabel_ ' .

He still couldn't recall how exactly he emerged from that icy pond. He had merely awoke on his back, snow around him, his father beating on his chest.

Tears ran down Dipper's face, like night after night. They pooled on the sheets beneath his cheek. He'd regret crying, like always. Sometimes he'd tell himself '_You gotta keep it together, Dip. For her.' _But she wasn't here. _She wasn't __**here**__. _A wall would crumble and he'd sob, hugging his pillow tight, squeezing her hairclip in his fist.

He pined for her even in his sleep. He'd dream of her sometimes, he'd wake right before they could touch. He'd reach for her and poof. She's disappear into an inky abyss, and he'd wake with such a fright. _It was just a nightmare_. He'd tell himself. But it wasn't. Mabel was gone. _A monster in my closet. It's always with me. _

Tonight, though, was different. There was a change in the air, for something of a plan was coming together for he and Mabel with each passing minute. **01:30**. It was reaching closer and closer to his birthday. Her birthday. He swiped the tears from his cheeks, sniffling back and taking in a deep breath. _Just two more days. _

They had made a pact, an oath, a promise to each other. On their 19th birthday, Mabel would take a bus and another bus. And another and another, she'd travel almost state wide, as far as the last bus would go. He would be there at her final stop, and he'd take her back to the Mystery Shack. Sounded simple. Because it was simple, almost fool proof. And it was their only shot.

Maybe there were still some major kinks to work out, like how they were going to break it to Stan, or what about Mabel's school year? Exams were rolling around, she couldn't just uproot at the end of a semester. But they'd cross those bridges when they reached them, together. Atleast they'd be together.

Dipper rolled on his side, peering at Mabel's hairclip in his hand. He clutched it tight, kissing it in his fist before tucking it under his pillow for sweeter dreams. "Goodnight, Mabel." He whispered in the dark. Dipper found that sleep came easier after he wept, almost like he couldn't rest without it.


	3. Baubles

Mabel's school days seemed to drag on longer and longer. She swore that the clock in homeroom tocked _backwards_ sometimes. Yet the days always seemed to find their ends.

She spied her dad's station wagon rolling up and wasted no time getting in, ready to get home. To change into jammies and flick on an old western, and sneak in some texts with Dipper. A.k.a. Penny Groves, as he's saved in her text app contacts.

_Just two more days ol girl. That's just 48 hours. Or 24 hours two times. Or-or 12 hours four times. 2880 minutes. 172800 seconds. 172799...172798..._

"So your mother says you don't want a lemon cake this year?" Her dad adjusted his rearview mirror to get a better look at her.

"Nah, I just want some variety cupcakes this year. Nothing too fancy."

"It's your birthday Mabel. And your idea of fancy isn't exactly pricey."

"You just have to make super sure it's the ones with rings, not those hard candy decoration ones. I mean, what would you rather have on your cupcake? Candy or baubles?" Mabel wiggled her costume jewelry adorned fingers. "You can't just get these babies anywhere."

"Oh, I see. So it's kind of a supply and demand thing?" Her dad piqued, flashing her a grin from the rear-view mirror.

She snapped her fingers. "Exactly!"

"So, your mom and I were thinking, this Christmas break, we should go to our cabin in Washington. We could go fly fishing, and ice fishing, and bass fishing-"

"What about the Christmas party?" Mabel asked, masking her distress. That was the one time of year they actually acknowledge Dipper's existence. He was allowed to come over and for one brutally tense day, everything seemed almost normal. Not that it really mattered much what her mom and dad were going to do for Winter break anyways. She was outta here in oh about...172547 seconds.

"We can always throw it next year. We haven't been to the cabin in ages." Her father loved camping out with them in that dusty hovel. Mabel and Dipper had to squeeze in the single wide pull-out matress every night. That is, only until their parents fell asleep. Then they'd scuttle off to the porch and watch the unpolluted sky.

The stars had never been brighter than in those stolen moments. They'd gazed up with open mouths till their necks ached. Dipper pointed out the dozen or so constellations he knew.

_That's Orion's belt. See the line of stars? That's how you find it._

"Don't you remember how much fun you two-...you used to have sliding down the wood banisters? I remember the time you caught the end of the rug and skid to a grinding halt in the kitchen doorframe. With your forhead." He chuckled, coughing a bit. He cranked the heat up with a shiver.

She remembered that. Dipper had ran over to her so fast, you'd think she was in the trenches of war the way he cooed over her. He had always been so worrysome with her. _Mabel, don't forget to look both ways. Mabes, always swing the bathroom door all the way to the wall. A creep could be hiding behind it. Sis, stop competitive hot dog eating please. Yes-yes, you're a prodigy child. A prodigy child with a ripped stomach lining, that's why we're en route to the emergency room._

Mabel laughed, it was like all she had of her brother was stolen words and nostalgia. And this wooden ring on her finger. She twined it around and around, admiring its worn texture. _I like wood jewelry._ Dipper would say. _It rots with me. Dies as I die. _

They finally pulled into the driveway, closing the garage door behind them. Mabel threw her bag over her shoulders, thanking her dad for the ride before scurrying off to her room. She closed the door and dropped her things, kicking her shoes into the wall with a loud smack. She shimmied out of her patchy jeans, dragging on her favorite sweatpants. Grey with pink sheep dancing in the clouds.

Before she could even get her phone out it pinged twice.

**i bet ur home**

** u little shit**

Mabel bit down the grin forming. She looked around like Magnum P.I., checking the clear coast before clicking away a response.

** yessir soooo how was ur day brobruhsephino**

** boring, got to watch kpax in psychology tho.**

** oh classic. keanu reeves. hmmm i still eat bananas whole**

** stop it. he did that because he was an alien yanno. not for weird ironic aesthetics. but anyways,hows the folks**

He asked the same thing everyday. How's the folks? How's Dad? Do they mention me at all? Of course not, Dipper. Same old same old.

** good. mom doesnt check my messages. as often**

Mabel paused, listening in as the garage door cranked open and her mom pulled up. She'd have to make the convo quick. Their dog barked at the door and her father yelled for him to hush. Her parents decided to get a dog after they threw her brother out. Like some crude replacement. Dipper was allergic to dogs, but with him gone that was no issue. She'd always wanted one. But she wanted her brother back more.

**stan doesnt hover**

She sighed. Wishing it was the same way here. She couldn't frown without her mother snapping 'What's with the face?' or 'chin up.' Wow, thanks mom. Chin up. Like a bandaid she'd slap on an open heart patient. _Take two of these and call me in the morning_. Even her dad, after all this time, skirted around Mabel's obvious depression.

'_Aw, turn that frown upside down, honeybuns.' Give me my brother back._

_ 'It's for your own good, we love you.' Give him back._

_ 'You'll make new friends.' My brother...I just want my goddamn brother..._

** are we really going to do this dip?**

** do you not want to?**

** dont ask that. du hoy i wanna like right now even. but...yanno...**

"Mabel, come help me unload these groceries! I got something um nummy for dinner tonight!" Her mother called out from the den.

Mabel typed her response quickly, shouting back to her mom. "Yes ma'am! Just a sec! I'm changing!"

**its just big, the move and all. i played tetris with all my dang possessions to fit it in 'incognito bags' **

Mabel tucked her phone away underneath her pillow, dashing off to assist her mom. She slipped on bedroom slippers by the door and strolled over to the bed of her mother's truck. "Well how was school today sweetie?" She piqued.

Her mother grunted, hefting up paper bagged groceries. Mabel snagged almost all the plastic bags in one go. " Slow. Art was fun though. How was work?" Same thing everyday. Every single day.

They walked to the kitchen together, putting everything away before returning for the rest. "Well, it was work. Can you believe that Mr. Sander's fellow I told you about, he brought store brand cookies to the bake-sale? I stayed up till 2 am making my blondies. Chump. I tell ya." She flicked hair behind her shoulder with a scoff. "_Store bought cookies..."_

"Bunch of chumps, ma." Mabel affirmed, hugging her mother longer than usual.

She didn't seem to notice, choosing to stroke Mabel's hair down her back. "Thanks for your assistance, go finish up your school work and you can help me with dinner. It's stuffed manacotti tonight." _Fucking score. _Mabel's favorite.

"Not a problemo mi madre." She gave her mother a pilot's salute before scurrying back to the safe alcove of her room. It strained her, more than often here lately, to act so normal. Like life was completely the same without Dipper here.

Dipper had been a problem, a kink in the system, and he had to be removed. So that's what they did. They'd shipped him off like bad fruit to the garbage. It made her stomah curdle at the thought. They never even said his _name _anymore. As if he never even existed. Her twin. The person she shared a womb with. The person who kissed her scabby knees and went on dangerous escapades with her. The one who was just _there_. Her other half. And horribly enough...her lover.

A muffled ping sounded from beneath her pillow. A new message from Dipper.

**then dont worry **

** what if stan kicks u out?**

Then they would literally have nowhere else to go. Not even a car to sleep in. Because there's no way her parents would take her in again, let alone both of them. She felt oddly powerful, having such a life changing decision on its merry way. It was all a bit surreal. After two more days, she would never see her parents again. Like trading one loneliness for another.

What had Bill told them? _Pick your poison._

** then i break my piggy bank **

** bruh how much?**

** like 1400 ish **

Well, that's higher than she had guessed. But lower than she'd hoped for. 1400 wasn't that much in the grand scheme of things. At least he's trying. She had maybe 200 saved, that was including her change jar. Pennies and all.

She heard her mom shuffling through pots and pans, cursing when some clattered on the kitchen floor.

**frugal i see. alright. two more days dipper**

** two mo days sis**. **make sure to delete these**

** duh. i love you**

** i love you too itll all come together just like we said**

Would it? Just like that? Some scattered puzzle pieces just waiting to be put back together, seamlessly. Finishing the bigger image in a way that was so far better than they could ever hope for.

This could all work, and in just two days, she'd be fast asleep curled in her brother's arms. Draped across his chest with naught a care in the world, a little puddle of drool gathering under her cheek. He'd wake her up with kisses at 4 in the morning and they'd be out the door before the sun even brushed past the mountains.

Or this could go about as well as a haircut in the dark. A choppy, hairy cluster fuck of a failure. Mabel knew it wasn't too late to get cold feet. Call a rain check on this whole plan. Though, she doubted her brother would survive another blow like that. God, would she?

** i know**


	4. Red Thread

Dipper tossed an armful of dirty clothes down the stairs, wiping his arm along his forhead. He'd been up since 4 am cleaning the attic up. Getting it ready with her comfort in mind. First thing Mabel was gonna need when he got her was a warm bed to rest in. No doubt she'd be exhausted after the long trip here...the emotional tole was immense. Dipper knew what it was like. Coming home from school with a paper that needed parent signature, and watching Stan sign his name. Something so trivial and forgetful was painful. Not seeing his mother's bold cursive and dotted heart, but his Grunkle's scrunched signing.

Little things like that were going to get her when she least expected it. Not to mention the blunt grief that came along with the knowledge that the people who literally _made you, _held you as a babe, fucking taught you how to walk...now pretend you never existed. It was worse than being hated. Because at least you had to be real to be hated. To have someone _feel_ _something_ for you other than utter indifference.

So he'd have to be there for her, tell her mom and dad still loved her. Even if he knew they didn't. That's what it would take, for a while. A safety blanket of _maybe mom wants to call but hasn't...or they want me to call first?_ They'd changed their number. _Maybe a letter? _There was never a letter. Then maybe one day soon, she'd wake up and hurt less. Still hurting...but less.

But they'd be together, and that's what it was all about. His endgame.

Dipper sighed, shrugging those thoughts away, concentrating on his room again. Maybe she'd like it. It was still the same ol attic they spent the same ol summers in. _But that's where I kissed her the first time. _He looked to the other side of the room, where her bed used to be. Dipper remembered he'd almost missed her lips, coming close to bumping noses instead, but she had angled her head just enough. It had made him feel as if she might like him back. She had definitely _kissed_ him back.

His gaze fell to the multi-colored rug strewn across the floor. _And that's where we first...slept together._ He usually shook those thoughts off like a cold, but geez he was giddy. He woke up feeling like a damn daisy. The sun was brighter and warmer on his face, in his bones.

"Maybe I could buy her some clothes?" Dipper said aloud, opening his cobwebbed closet, the light flickered on and suddenly off with a popping fizz. He'd have to change the bulb later. But really, how psyched would she be when she walks in and bam! New sweater dress hanging up! She'll be all like, _Oh Dipper yay lets kiss and hold hands and let me rub your huge, and conveniently oiled, muscles! _Yeah, that's what she'd say. He snorted. As if.

Whew boy it smelled like sweat in here. He'd have to fix that. He walked over to the window, opening both panes and locking them there. Dipper eyed the carpet, full of pocket change and pot seeds. Wrappers and cups were stashed under his bed. His stained ass sheets, cluttered drawers, another pile of laundry covering the heat vent. Yikes. This place was a literal fucking sty.

Dipper snagged as many dirty cups and sticky cereal bowls his lanky arms could hold, and then some. He scurried up and down the stairs, hauling things to the kitchen and starting loads in the washer. He didn't notice Stan's side eyed glances from the living room.

Finally Dipper could see the carpet, after he vacuumed, twice. He polished everything and even changed the sheets. Everything was looking...livable. Now, maybe Mabel wouldn't feel too out of place. He knew she'd grow homesick for their mom and dad. He still did, sometimes. But he was learning to put it past him. And as much as he hated it for her, she would have to. They both wished there was another option. But matters of the heart called for...bending. Giving up one thing for another.

Mabel wouldn't be able to text him much today, she was going shopping with their mom. Something about a "western throwdown" birthday. A new interest of hers.

Sometime, he wondered if she thought about their plan as much as he did. Cause he was literally always thinking about it. 50 percent can't wait, and 50 percent _Grunkle Stan is gonna kill me._ There was always the off chance he _wouldn't _kill his favorite nephew. A chance they'd just have to take. Like leaping off a foggy cliff-side to land in god only knew what.

Dipper scooted down the stairs, straightening up the carpet run and flicking boogers off the railing.

Stan hollered to him from the t.v. room. "Hey what are you bustling around here for? You're usually out the door by now." In the woods looking for anything to take his mind off things. Mabel said he was losing gratitude for the mysteries this town had. Was he?

Dipper made his way in the kitchen, sweeping the last of the dirty dishes in hot soapy water.

"My room was filthy. I had spiders building a monarchy system in the rafters. There was a big revolt. Disastrous really, God would say they were meant to fall from the start. Pitiful." Dipper quipped. A foreign smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

"Uh huh. Sounds deep kiddo. Glad you have it in you." Stan chuckled. A genuine laugh, deep from his belly.

"Someone has to." Dipper wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. "I'm still heading out today. We need lightbulbs." And Mabel needed a new dress with her new life. Er, well, not really that new. Refurbished.

"Oh thank god, I'm tired of shitting in the dark." Stan bleated, chortling to himself.

"I uh- yup. Alright then." Dipper made a final quick run back up to the attic, giving everything a satisfied once over, he snagged his wallet from the book shelf. He sighed to himself. Taking in the smell of his room, the light it had. In another day, it would all change.

Dipper made his way down to the living room, standing between Stan and the t.v. Stan tried to peek around him.

"Can I borrow the car?" Dipper asked.

Stan craned his neck even harder, tossing him the keys from the coffee table with a grumble.

"Well you ain't walking, kid. Now shoo. Turns out the funds lawyer likes dogs." He chatted about the episode of Andy Griffith on behind him.

Dipper nodded with a curt smile. "Sounds like a twist if I ever heard one. I'll be back before dark. Need anything?"

"A new liver. No, uh...those coconut covered chocolate liquor truffles. The one's in the gold foil trays?" He dabbed his fingers together, mock sheepish. Dipper scowled.

"Those are like ten dollars a bag. I'll get you some trail mix." Stan gasped, jerking back as if he'd been slapped.

"You don't have the guts. Your kind never does." He wagged a finger at him. Dipper laughed with him and gave him a wave. A softer smile spread on his great uncle's face.

"Be safe. She's been having a hard time starting up." Stan turned back to the television, kicking the recliner up. Same routine every Saturday morning.

"No problemo. See ya." Dipper zipped his way to the car, having an easy enough time cranking it up. He pat the steering wheel in approval before puttering down the long driveway, checking the mail before heading in to town.

The trees had changed so much, he noticed as they whirred past him. Auburn and maroon maples everywhere. Tourists drifted by sometimes. Mabel had never seen Gravity Falls in the autumn. She never got to see the fading leaves, the later sunsets, her breath hanging in the air. But she would. He'd get to show her everything.

Oh man, there was a part of the woods along the mountains base where some huge mushrooms grew. And every fall they withered down enough for him to climb over. Once he'd made it to the other side, a thin trail a mile long stretched before him. On either side there was sheer rock wall that shot up for as far as the eye could see. He'd had to shimmy through the narrow valley, holding in a breath as he wedged between the cleaved mountains.

The path opened at the far end to reveal a forgotten grotto, tucked away behind the sleeping bluffs. Iron rods jutted from the earth, flowers scattered the ground in all directions. The casted fixtures aimed up to the sky, sticking side by side making a large X. Dipper had ran his fingers down the curious metal, they'd slipped fast from the surface. Odd. It had looked like cast iron but was slick like an oily glass dish. It smelled like char, but there were no black streaks to be found. He returned days later, rather nights later, and discovered that at dark, the little grotto changed.

The flowers would glow with a faint dusting of light and in the water, deep beneath the surface, streaks of gleam as vivid as sun flashed in and out of view. Like lightning flickering in a night storm. His best guess was electric eels, but how would eels have found their way into a pond? He never would see what the light was from, but he knew it had something to do with those rods. And the way they affected organic life around them. It was getting around the time he could go again, the huge fungus most likely dead. He'd have to take her.

Dipper almost missed his turn, cutting sharp at the last moment. He couldn't help getting lost in his thoughts. Tomorrow she'd be here. Well, probably the next day early early in the morning. The weight of Grunkle Stan's shadow loomed more on his shoulder. Maybe Dipper should tell him tonight. Or tomorrow morning when he was lost in his early t.v. shows. _So, Grunkle Stan I'm gonna go pick up some milk, bread, some toilet paper. Oh and Mabel. Okaywellseeyah! _ Dread made his stomach curdle. It'll just be like a bandaid, right? Quick in one sweep. Either he was gonna say yes or no. Or kill him.

Dipper pulled into a shady spot near the curb, shutting the car down, double locking it behind before heading in _Red Thread_, a small retro second hand shop. The owners moved in just a couple of years ago. Dipper was pretty sure they were warlocks, but warlocks who sold refurbished clothes at dimes on the dollar. He pushed the door, making sure they were open beforehand. An awash of almond biscotti wafted to him. A little bell jingled behind him when the door closed.

He made his way to a a pop up sign reading _Sweaters That Hug._ That sounded right up Mabel's alley.

He sifted through corded sleeves and plunging necklines, button ups and pull overs. He spotted a red one with orange daisies stitched lovingly along the hems. A lacey ruffle trim decorated the bottom. It was a large but Mabel would probably like that. He laid it across his arm for keeps.

Dipper heard loud footsteps from behind the counter, a man coughed into his fist. "Oh hello. Havin a half off sale. Yanno? Buy four for two." The enormous shop-keep, most surely a warlock, grinned, holding up four meaty fingers. He has probably never had a security scare in his entire life. "Oy, an all these aromatics and cremes half off, too. Me and the wife pound all the ingredients with our fists." To which he brandished shamelessly.

_I do not doubt that. "_Oh okay. I'm only here for a thing or two." Dipper replied, turning his attention back to the racks of clothes.

"Suit yourself then." Such a merry voice he had, bustling again to the back room, returning now and then with arm fulls of merchandise to shelve.

"Just one more..." Dipper told himself, scratching his stubbled chin in thought, having a hard time choosing between so many. "Ah jeez, she'd like all of these." He grabbed two more, throwing them over his shoulder. He gnawed his finger tip a moment, deciding to snag a flouncy over coat that Mabel would look adorable in.

Before he made it to the counter, Dipper had amassed four sweaters, three dresses, a new coat, some boots, two shampoo sets and a tube of jasmine mint toothpaste. He sighed, laying everything out on the counter. A bit bashful over his lack of self control.

The shop-keep came up to the counter, whipping his hands across his barrel chest. Fucker had to duck and turn sideways to get in the doorway. The man snickered at Dipper's purchases. "Oh aye, only a thing or _two_." His mustache wiggled when he laughed. Dipper smiled at all the things.

"I got a little er...carried away." He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks heating to a fevered degree.

"Don't we all sometimes, child?" The warlock scanned everything, folding it neatly into a plump gift-box, a little ribbon on top. "Box is on the house," He added. Dipper pulled out his wallet, folding it open.

"Thanks. So what do I owe you?" _200 easy._

_ "_Oy...we'll say about...130, even." Dipper's jaw slacked a bit.

"Oh, w-well alright then. Haha! Here you go. You can keep the gum wrapper." The shop-keep printed out his receipt, stuffing the cash into the register.

"Much obliged, now take care. And act like a gentleman." Dipper hefted the gift-box up.

"Thank you sir." He made his way outside, popping the trunk with his foot and laying the box in, locking the hood tight.

Alright, well he still didn't break his budget, even after majorly over spending on Mabel's present. Well, it wasn't really over spending when it was going to such a good cause. His pretty sister's face lighting up when she looked in the closet and saw new clothes hanging there. They'd have to break in her dresses. He'd set her atop his mirrored wardrobe and take his time rolling her lovely stockings down to her ankles. Kiss her tawny legs till she shivered. Dipper scarcely stifled a groan at the thought.

Oh-ho _yes, _this would all be very..._very_ worth it.


	5. Uncommon

Stan rubbed his calloused palms along the counter. This old hussy had been through a slew. What if she could talk, Jesus how crazy would that be? _Wear pants more. _Yeah, she'd probably say that. He scrubbed a coffee ring with the pad of his thumb. The floor creaked and Soos elbowed past a post card rack with a suitcase in tow.

"Soos." Stan grunted in welcome as he tossed the case on the counter, pens and cash register clattering. Earning an acrid scowl from his boss.

"Oh hey, Mr. Pines. Got uh, some of Mabel's clothes. Candy just dropped em off. Weird. Why would Candy have Mabel's stuff? Mabel should have Mabel's stuff. Right?" Soos investigated the leaning keychain stand, frowning before dismissing it. Must be hard finding one of those named ones when your name is Soos.

"Yeah." Stan gave up on the coffee stain, hands slinking from the counter top. Soos turned to him, looking awful inquisitive.

"So what's up? You've been all uh...ambivalent lately. Standoffish? No, no...uh..._crusty_?" He scratched his chin, pondering.

"Okay, okay. Get to the point." Stan grumbled, fiddling with the cash register lock. He reached for the suitcase handle with his free hand, clasping it tight. It felt light in his grip.

"I'm just saying, you've been a bit quieter than you usually are. Is it the whole...Dipper thing again?" Soos flicked a flashing keychain, it clattered against the others. Stan sighed, wondering exactly what to say, what he _should_ say.

Soos didn't know much about Dipper and Mabel's..._incident. _And honestly, neither did Stanford. He was aware there had been some ongoings of a romantic sort between the pair. That much was obvious. The two snapped energy when they were close. The way the kid gave her _too approving _glances. The way Mabel would brush off his hand to keep things covert.

"So uh...Mabel's really coming here? I mean...their mom and dad are okay and everything. Cause, yanno, I heard something went down, I mean, I don't really got much business knowing all this-errr...family stuff, but uh..." Soos jabbered.

"Dipper hasn't really said much to me." Like usual. Something had changed in that boy. And no wonder why, poor kid had his best friend and blood ripped from him. Just like that. Two pieces into one. All because..._all because... _He knew something was..._up_ with those two. It had been there for a while. At first you wouldn't noticed. It almost went under his radar. _Almost_. No one else seemed to see. But he saw, their giveaways.

He thought it was a coincidence at first, catching Dipper lingering on her. When she'd get new clothes, or when she'd pull her hair up in some sporadic way. She'd be spinning and smiling at herself. And of course everyone was eyes on Mabel, but Dipper...Dipper was lost in her. Stan knew that look. Those glazed eyes and low shoulders. Like a man looking at scenery. Or a woman he loved. He thought maybe...maybe it's just a phase. All kids go through these phases...right?

Mabel herself had been ignorant of it. She'd chatter on about boys and sometimes girls, and Dipper would just tense up. Just enough. He'd hunch in his seat, looking far off when she talked about those things. So subtle was this boy. He must have gotten good at hiding such a secret. But it didn't take long for it to affect her, too. The next summer, 15 or 16 they were, Stan had offered them separate rooms on their arrival.

_ I mean, siblings are always tight, but it was just weird._ Stan could see it so clearly. It was a wave of panic, so fast and sharp, anyone else would miss it. But it was Mabel. She clenched the strap on her duffle bag, eyes glancing to Dipper, just a fleeting moment.

The kid had held his cool. "_Oh well, we sleep separate at home, and Mabel's scared of the dark still. So-"_

"_Am not!" _She had laughed, elbowing her brother in the side. Stan had grimaced, only after he caught himself smiling at how unwound Dipper was. Like he was lighter and had air in his chest, life in his eyes. Was that scruff coming in on that squirt's chin?

"Stan?"

He jerked out of his thoughts, looking to Soos. "Whoa. Oh, uh. So yeah. Dipper asked me the other day, is that new sushi place open yet." Stan chuckled.

"Yeah, so?" Soos asked, picking at the dogeared edges of stickers slapped across the register, before Stan could protest his help; Soos hefted the weighted till, setting it against his hip.

"So? Dipper hates sushi!" He said it was too spicy. Who the hell thinks sushi is spicy? Pickled rice and fucking seaweed?

"I uh...don't think I'm following you, Mr. Pines." Soos cocked his head to the side in that birdlike way.

"Mabel is the one who loves sushi. The kid's been pretty chipper around here lately. I knew he had something coming on. I told you." Stan shared tidbits of information with Soos every now and then. Surprisingly, he was one hell of a tight purse when it came to secrets, the guy was like a safe. Stan supposed he had to be, he needed someone's advice when he first suspected Dipper's plan. That sneak thought he would just move her in here without even asking?

Of course the little shit was welcome, but jeez. What did a great uncle have to do to get some conversation out of him? He knew the kid had it hard, but you'd think he'd want to talk about it to _somebody_. All that boy did was push food on the side of his plate and mumble, but he had to admit, lately Dipper had perked up. They had chats again. Dipper started telling him about his "adventures". Snooping around in this place's mysteries. That kid was gonna get into some deep shit one day, but damn at least he was talking with him again.

"So what's the suitcase for?" Soos propped his elbow on the counter, coins slid to front of the register, clattering against its walls.

"Yanno, Dipper also asked me if he could borrow the car on Sunday. _Sunday."_ Stan had to chuckle about that. Deviant hellions. "Mabel is sending her clothes through mail. She's _running away._To come here." He tapped his cane on the floors.

Soos frowned "Is that bad?"

"Oh probably. But uh...I think it's got to happen." Stan headed a ways down the hall, kicking off his loafers at the door. Soos followed behind, standing in the doorway of Stan's study, passing the register to him. He locked it among other possessions in his safe.

"Well, I'm stoked. I'll tell her how me and Melody are engaged. Oh man! She can be the flower girl." Soos' cheeks grew a bit rosy. That kid had it _bad_.

Maybe this is just what Dipper needed to get out of his depression. She'd add some goddamn colour back in here, too. And lot's of adhesive animal pictures, and shampoo bottles everywhere in the damn bathtub floor that she'd _never clean up_. Not to mention wet towels left in the floor, tubes of toothpaste left open, make-up every where. And that was just the bathroom. He could go on for hours about the damn kitchen. He'd have to start labeling his snack packs again.

It would be great. Would. But Stan still knew what Dipper and Mabel had wasn't..._common_. Natural wasn't the right world. Cause heaven knows the unnatural shit Stan had done in his day. They would always have to hide. Have to hide what was thrown in their faces everyday. On the news, in the movies, right in front of them. _Affection. _There was no mistaking the two were twin souls. They really took that road less traveled shit seriously.

And even still, it didn't feel wrong. If separating the two was supposed to be the good thing, the _right thing..._then why was his nephew crying in his pillow almost every night? Why did the right thing separate two siblings? Why does the _right thing _make him suffer? There wasn't a sin of love, right? Then how was this different?

"Soos."

"Aye, Stan?"

He locked his study behind him, patting his faithful second-hand man on the back he said, "I'm gonna need your help moving some furniture tomorrow."


	6. Wyatt

Well boy fuckin howdy! I hope you're enjoying the story thus far, I know I'm having a splendid time writing it. So please, review and fave if you please! Also! Minor food mention in the beginning, be prepared!

* * *

Mabel groaned, dropping her head in the crook of her arm as she watched her mother; dolloping spoonfuls of creme into baking cups. She sprinkled the tops of each one with brownie batter crumbles, laughing to herself at how creative she must be.

Mabel absently swung her legs, losing herself in thoughts of the next few days. Tomorrow would be it. The big shabang. Her last birthday and last..._dayday_ with her mom and dad. Then zip, off in the night she'd dash. Hopping on the first bus to Gravity Falls or close as it could take her. All the possessions she could fit in two duffle bags.

_Let's just hope mom doesn't get me anything big tomorrow. _Can't cram that in with the rest of her things. She was practically booked up. She didn't even have clothes. Good thing she's been sending Candy pieces of her wardrobe every week. Sure it cost about 100 bucks in shipping, but Dipper paid most of the postage anyway. Okay, _all_ the postage. The weird part had been the bulk order of her panties that had to be sent.

"These are gonna come together real nice. Try not walk too hard or the cake might break apart. " Her mother warned, tugging out a test batch of a half dozen cupcakes. Dipper had given her the oven mits she was using years ago. Obviously her parents had forgotten or they would have thrown it out just like the rest of her brother's existence.

The day after his export, every family portrait had mysteriously away, no doubt. The little baby hand prints in stone her mother had made when they were infants, gone. Dipper used to like putting his hand over his tiny baby print. He said it made him feel weird being so big. _I could kick baby me's ass._

"I'm sure ma. I'm gonna go work on my literature project." Mabel feigned boredom, slipping down from the kitchen barstool.

Her mother pouted. "You sure you don't wanna lick the bowl?" She offered a dripping spoon to her, to which she graciously took.

"Not this time. Spoon'll do though." Mabel scampered off to her room, shutting the door behind her. She set a boot right under the doorway, incase someone tried to open it without knocking. Giving her a few precious seconds to stash her cell phone. Speaking of which. She fished her cell from between the matress, typing up the first message.

**yo yo yo tomorrow 3 so I got u something today. mom thinks it's for me. im not telling btw so dont even ask**

It was an odd rock salt glowing lamp thing. She'd bought it at the fragrance outlet in the mall. It seemed like something he'd like. It changed colors too. That'd pacify his high ass. It didn't take long before her phone buzzed. Dipper always messaged back fast. Like he was waiting. She liked to think he was.

**oh well come on. no fine thats fair. i wont tell either. so you ready for tomorrow**

Mabel looked under her bed at the bulging duffle bags of her stuff. _About as ready as I'll ever be. _How prepared could you be for severing ties with your parents on a 50/50 shot of living in your uncle's attic because you can't breath without your brother? The excitement was almost swamped out by the dread.

**ready steady. just nervous is all...you'll be there right? cause it's gonna be fucking dark dip**

She'd rode the bus home from Gravity Falls. It was a good three hour trip, not including stops. _To _Gravity Falls would feel like longer. Hell, this whole day was dragging on too long already and it was only 4 pm. _I wonder how long it'll take before they realize I'm gone? Will they throw out my stuff, too?. _

Mabel looked around her room; faded pink wallpaper and doodles from middle school still hung up. Stuffed animals littered her white dresser, blocking the mirror. Her manual sewing machine was tucked neatly in the corner, strung up and ready for action. She sighed. She would have to leave all of this behind.

Her phone buzzed again. It would be all worth it. Being with him was the only endgame she had. All or nothing.

**of course. i'll already be there most likely. dont talk to any strangers **

** how do you make friends if you dont talk to strangers?**

** you know what i mean goofball**

Mabel deleted her inbox every couple of texts out of habit. Her mother almost caught a text between them, thank god she hadn't saved Dipper as a contact yet. She played it off like a boy at school she was texting, and through a miracle and a fucking dream her mother had believed it.

**you better make the bed. **

** I made the bed mabes. and then some. i even vacummed.**

** ew oui oui fancy **

The bedroom door jolted open, jamming on Mabel's boot. Her mother peeking in. Looking like some _Here's Johnny_ re-enactment. "Oopsie, Mabel honey, don't leave shoes in front of the door." Mabel kept collected as she closed their messages, hopping up to unwedge her boot.

"Sorry mom, what do you need?"

Her mother always had a weird way of looking all over the room, craning her neck even. "Just seeing what you were up to. If you're not busy with your paper, I could use a lil help mashing some raspberries."

She glanced at Mabel's phone laying on the bed. "Sure. I was about to start on the lit paper. Got distracted playing games. Whomp whomp." Mabel chided, grinning at her mom. She smiled back, buying it.

They made their way to the kitchen and Mabel got the mortar and pestle out from under the counter. Dipper ground weed up in this once, it hadn't so much _ground_ as _quashed, _but he'd tried. Her mother dumped freshly rinsed berries from the strainer.

"We want a paste, not a mash." She instructed, sprinkling in dried rosemary and lemon zest. Mabel worked , folding the mixture over and over till it began to fluff. Her mother dabbed a finger in, tasting it with a satisfied hum. She wiped a swatch on Mabel's nose. She laughed, licking it off.

Mabel was gonna miss her. That was another fear that rested on her shoulders, how would their parents react? Oh god, nuclear most likely.

"Well it tastes good." Mabel commented, handing her mother the mortar. She gave it a once over before nodding.

"This'll do nicely, honey." She set on the stove top, 13 minutes blinked green on the oven timer. "Anyone from school coming over?" Her mother asked.

Mabel leaned against the counter. "Not on a Sunday. Unless they wanna get up in the morning with me and go to school Monday." Sometimes the lies she had to churn out made her cringe. Her mother was in for a very unwelcome surprise Monday morning. A daughterless bed. No clothes in the drawers, a note on the bed. Should she leave a note? Was that cliche? _Goodbye parents, I am off to live with my brother husband. Wish me well. See you again never! Love Mabel. _

Her mother nodded. "Ah. Makes sense."Her fingers berated the sink, her nails making a clatter through the kitchen. A nervous tick they both shared. Mabel was clicking her's against her rhinestone belt.

A small buzz sounded from her room. Her mother didn't seem to notice it. "Need anything else?" Mabel asked, already making her way to the room. Her mother looked at the empty sink. "No, go on and finish up that project."

Mabel passed the doorway and closed the door, boot in its regular place. She flounced on the bed, pulling out her laptop and checking her phone again. A message from Candy about how she dropped Mabel's clothes off at the Mystery Shack. She hoped Dipper was there to get them. God forbid Grunkle Stan did. How pickling would that be? Another message was from Dipper.

**ya ya fancy schmancy dont forget a toothbrush, cause you are NOT using mine.**

** yeah right poopbreath your mouth is a landfill in the morning**

** oh gee thank you mabes**

Mabel opened up a rough draft she needed to be working on like two weeks ago. She weighted her options. She didn't even have to do the damn project if she was leaving tomorrow! Well score. Looks like that was done and done. She better reward all her hard work with a nightlong celebratory binge of _The Life And Legend Of Wyatt Earp_. Boybands were history. Westerns were the _future._

She and Dipper text back and forth as Wyatt Earp effortlessly saw through Jennie Brandt's love charades! No Wells Fargo gold for you and your kin! What would Dodge City be without you Wyatt? Mabel was able to tug a few details about Dipper's presents for her. So far, she knew that they were clothes. But that's it. He said something about warlocks but when wasn't he talking about the mythic? The credits rolled along and Mabel's mother called her from the kitchen, _again. _She tucked her phone underneath her pillow for safe keeping.

A message blinked across her screen, unread as she walked away.

**i think stan knows**


	7. Crumbs

Aww, thank you Noah. Enjoy!

* * *

"Come sit down with me, kid. Tigerfist is on." Stan patted the open seat at his side, brushing off cheese crumbs and cigar ash. Dipper tossed him his keys, laying those damn truffles in his lap. "Oh. Thanks."

Dipper had already toted Mabel's giftbox up to the attic, tucking it under his bed for safe keepings. He shrugged his jacket off, standing in front of the area heater with open palms. "But you hate Tigerfist." He replied.

Dipper flopped down on the cushion next to him. He fondly traced his fingers over a maroon stain on the armrest. Mabel had been on some preseves making fad. She had wanted to grow her own strawberries and fruits and make jams and spreads. Right after the first batch, she handfed him a spoonful and a few drops had splattered there on the fabric.

'_Mabes, this thing needs to grow all through fall, we're gonna be at home.' _She had gone out and bought a strawberry sprout from the farmers market. Not even asking if he wanted to help. Simply knew he would.

_ 'That's what Grunkle Stan is for. He'll tend to our berries, right?' _

_ 'Yeah, if it survies.' _Stan had griped about the year long chore Mabel had sprung on him. But when they'd come back the next summer, that piece of shit, twiggy strawberry bush had bloomed so big it was drooping with heavy buds. Stan said it just happened. But trimmed ends, stints and support wire don't _just happen_.

Dipper recalled how Mabel hadn't just throw her old task to the wind. She waited for a harvest, peeking out the attic window each night. '_Do you think we should get him a blanket? What if he's thirsty? Or...lonely?'_

_ 'He-he's a plant, Mabel. No uh...no loneliness I'm guessing?'_ She had pouted, slumping out of the window. Only glancing back for a moment. '_Ah! He's shivering! He's cold, Dip. He really needs a blanket.' _She had dug through her things, finding the fleece blankie he'd gotten her for Halloween. Okay, after Halloween because those mad sales.

'_That's the wind, sis.'_ He had confirmed. The sound of the tall pines creaking ever so slightly.

Mabel draped the blanket over her shoulder with a huff. Dipper patted the spot beside him and she scooted to his left. '_Look what I found, here's strawberries with no seeds.' _He'd pointed to the glowing computer screen. That piqued her interest.

_ 'Oh and that one is white.' _She had smiled.

He had to have sat with her a good thirty minutes looking up damn fruit facts and gardener's tips. She had jabbered on and on about how she was going to boil them down and pour the syrup in a jar full of edible glitter. Or how Stan was going to sell her jars in the gift shop. They'd open up kiosks nationwide. They filled up a cart online of all the things they were gonna buy. Mason jars, ribbon and tags, some stars and dinosaur sugar candies only available through someone she knew in San Juan.

When they finally harvested those plump berries, Mabel was quiet the whole time. Not a word. She had been in this odd gardening _zone_. She'd rinsed and rinsed, setting up some double boiling system. Mabel had burnt her hand on the hot edge of the pot.

'_Oh fuck that was a doozy!'_ She had jerked her hand away running it under cool tap water. Dipper jogged over to her side, grabbing her arm to inspect. It hadn't looked bad. Just a hot band that lashed her wrist. Without thinking...without hesitation, he'd brought her wound up to his lips and kissed it. Blowing on it for health and luck, just like their mom used to do.

Dipper had been so shocked with himself. Mabel had looked...displaced. Like she was already tossing that scene out her memory garbage shute. She'd pulled away. And they went on like nothing happened.

'_Pass me the sugar, bro-bruh.'_

_ 'Of course.'_

"Dipper. You're uh, zoning out again." Grunkle Stan called from reality.

"Ah-..oh. Sorry." Half of the episode was gone and over. Commercial intermission blared on. Stan was quiet. But so was he. It was like this a lot since...he and Mabel's incident. They'd fix t.v. dinner's and chew through an episode of Grandpa the Kid and Dragnet. He'd ask how school was, but Dipper always said the same thing. '_Fine.'_

"How you feel, kid?"

"Fine."

"Nothing...on your mind?" Stan swirled the beer in the bottom of his can, taking another drink. He was being awfully inquisitive. Maybe he knew...no. No. Dipper had hid he and Mabel's plan good. He hadn't even told Soos. No one knew. No one but he and Mabel. Of course Stan was going to have to find out at some point. Like when he woke up Monday morning and Mabel was sitting at the kitchen table. But as long as he didn't know now...he couldn't say no.

"No." Dipper replied dryly.

Stan set his can aside. A tired sigh passed his lips. "Dipper. Talk to me. I mean, I know things are hard for you right now. But I'm...uh...I'm right here, alright?" He clicked the volume down, turning to look his way. "For whatever that's worth."

Dipper fiddled his hands. Fingers locking and knuckles cracking loudly. Oh geez, and now sweating, too? What could Stan know? Stan doesn't _know._ Not now. Not while he could still call their parents and warn them.

"I know. I know something is up with you. You've been quiet for a while now, kiddo. But recently...you've been a bit more...sunny." Sunny was...right. Since he and Mabel hatched the plan for her to come here as far as the bus would take her, it felt like a warm dawn breaking frost down from the grass and trees. No matter how far away she was. He was getting her back and keeping her safe here. Where she wanted to be. Where Dipper _needed_ her to be.

"I just...I'm glad school is letting out soon. F-for break. Haha...yeah, me and Soos we're gonna go to Washington and do some rafting and stay at a lodge for a week."

"Oh, cool. I stayed at an Alaskan lodge once. Cops raided our room, but we hid the coke in the moose mount." Stan slapped his knee, laughing. "No, I'm kidding."

"I don't think you are." Dipper chided, chuckling a bit. He'd forgotten how at ease he felt when talking to Grunkle Stan. He tried talking to him, he really did. But how could you talk to someone who knew what...you and your own twin did?

"Well maybe I'm not." He took a swig from his beer, finishing it off and setting it away. "So, have you heard from your sister recently?" _Shit._

The question caught Dipper off guard, his heart beat thudding in his chest. "Oh uh, yeah. She's real good. Our birthday is coming up." He grinned, trying to maintain face. Don't act flustered. Be a normal boy not in love with his sister. For like ten goddamn minutes.

"You want to send her something?"

"Uh...nah." No need, she'd be here soon enough. Then all they'd have to do is plead with Stan to let her stay. Dear god, let him say yes.

"Why not? I thought you squirts did that every year." Hairs stood up on the back of Dipper's neck. Did Stan know more than he was letting on? He always had the tendency to do that. But this was...different.

"Oh, well-she's sending me some online credits for this er...online game. And I'm sending her some digital soundtracks. Nothing special." Stan squinted, but Dipper was getting out of the water before it boils. Lay crumbs on a different path.

"All right, whatever the hell those things mean. Suit yourself. " Dipper grabbed his bag and jacket, tossing them across his shoulder. He hated to break up this little chat. It felt nice to talk to him again. Actually _talking_. "Hey, tell her I said happy birthday when you see her." Stan nodded his way, grabbing the remote to roll the volume back up.

"No problem. I'm going in my room."

"G'night."Stan grunted, nudging the recliner backwards, eyes forward again. Dipper made his way to the attic. He'd broken his sweat, now he was just straight up panicking. A cold dread bubbling in his stomach. _Stan knows._ Stan doesn't know...Stan...might know? _No. No!_ Dipper shook his head against the oncoming anxiety.

Midway through the flight of stairs, he paused, eyes downcast with a singular thought. Grunkle Stan had said '_tell her when you see her_.' He couldn't think...no. Naw. He probably just meant online. Or video chatting. Yeah. No way he knew. No way he knows. There is _no way he knows_. Not now.

His hands curled and fisted by his sides, his mouth already bone dry. If Stan knew, maybe it wasn't so bad? Right? Because if he_ did_ know, why hadn't he kicked Dipper out yet? Or gave him some big lecture about the future or yadda yadda? What if he was planning on telling their parents? Like the night of the big shabang.

_Perfect. Just perfect!_ Dipper dropped to the be, shoulders slouched. Head in his hands. He rummaged through possibilities in his head, finaly coming to an uneasy conclusion. He had to atleast let her know. Don't spook her, just warn her.


End file.
